


Sat down at the table, and for the last time

by palateens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Dreams vs. Reality, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-08-30
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:18:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11953803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/palateens/pseuds/palateens
Summary: Lydia dreams of a coffee shop in Brooklyn.





	Sat down at the table, and for the last time

**Author's Note:**

> it's been a long time since I've written for this fandom. it's just a quick sketch but I'm hopping to do more soon!

Lydia dreams of a coffee shop in Brooklyn. The was are covered in reclaimed wood that she finds to be rather tacky. She taps her pen against the metal spiral of her notebook as she stares at her Honors Abstract Algebra homework. The steam from her tea is slowly withering out as she waits impatiently.

She doesn’t know how, but she knows the train root she had to take from Columbia to get here. Lydia knows how crowded it will be if she isn’t able to head home before six, and that she’ll be peeved if the seat across from her continues to be empty for much longer.

She huffs, resisting the urge to bite her lip. She looks back at the equation she was working on. It’s a willow tree in bloom now. She finds herself fixated on the grooves of its trunk. She stares until the the blossoms trickle off one by one. She vaguely hears the sound of clinking plates and some song she hasn’t listened to in years buzzing in the background.

The lights in the shop seem to get warmer, brighter. Lydia thinks it’s impossible, but the whole place looks pinkier. This precise shade of rose that calms her like a hug she forgot she needed. Someone taps on her shoulder. She turns, looking up.

“Hey,” Allison says with a tight smile.

“Hey,” Lydia says breathlessly.

Allison gestures to the empty seat. “This taken?”

“No,” Lydia says quietly.

Allison sits down, stealing Lydia’s tea.

“Hey,” Lydia snaps, “get your own.”

Allison smirks playfully. “But this is more fun.”

Lydia rolls her eyes, because of course this is how Allison just ignores that she’s an hour late. This is how she dodges their  real problems. Their problems rings in Lydia’s head. It’s softer than windchime but so very clear and off key.

“You’re paying me back for that,” Lydia says.

Allison takes another long sip of tea. “Of course.”

“And you’ll be escorting me home,” she orders.

Allison frowns, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “That’s on the other side of town.”

“I know.” She quirks a brow, challenging Allison to protest.

Instead, Allison chuckles before downing the rest of it.

Lydia gawks. Unable to protest more as Allison gets up, grabbing her hand gently, leading her outside. Lydia doesn’t know what season it was when she got into the shop, but it’s Fall when they exit. The street where the shop sits is littered with leaves, newspapers, cars, and people. It’s crowded, but Allison leads her through the bustling crowds.

Then they’re in a subway car headed uptown. The sun is setting as Allison finds an empty section of railing to hold onto. She takes it in one hand and holds onto Lydia with the other. Lydia feels safe here, more than she has in a lifetime. The subway groans as it rolls over a bridge. Lydia tucks her head into the crook of Allison’s neck. She thinks maybe Allison’s wearing heels or she hasn’t seen her in long enough to remember exactly what size she is.

Allison squeezes her tightly, pulling her out of her thoughts. She tilts her head down slightly, pecking Lydia’s nose. Lydia’s breath catches. Allison does it again. Her lips travel lower, meeting Lydia’s like a secret—gentle and tentative yet intimate. Lydia kisses her back. She can taste the tea still on Allison’s lips. She can also taste what’s left of the strawberry lip gloss they bought in Santa Clara a few (maybe many) summers ago.

“Is that ok?” Allison asks. “Or should we grab ice cream on the way home?”

Home is a studio apartment in upper manhattan that they can barely afford with a cat that likes to be feared more than pet. Home is an air mattress they slept on for six months because Lydia insisted on getting a good mattress but a cheap bed frame (cheap being a relative word). Home is Thai take out that they get once a week when Lydia gets bogged down with TA grading and Allison doesn’t come home from the office until it’s too late to care about proper eating. It’s a lamp they found at a farmer’s market back in Beacon Hills. It’s a call they make once a week to both their parents to remind them they’re still alive.

Suddenly, Lydia feels very self conscious.

“We should stop,” she murmurs. “People are staring.”

Allison looks up. They both scan the subway car and no one seems to be paying them any mind. Their eyes meet again.

Allison’s lips say, “ok.” But her eyes say “why would we?”

Lydia thinks to herself “yea, why?” Then she’s pulling Allison closer. She’s kissing Allison so hard, the taste of blood masks the taste of her tears. She gripping Allison tighter than she thinks is possible, but she’s losing feeling in her fingers too.

I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. Lydia chants in her head.

She jolts forward as the subway car stops, waking up.

Lydia gasps for a moment. She grabs her phone, it say 4:32 am. She takes a deep breath, and then two. She looks around cautiously. She’s still waking up and she can’t tell what day or year it is. But she’s in California, in her old bedroom. She’s alone.

Allison’s dead.

Lydia touches her lips, wondering if she’s losing it again. Maybe some things are worth not thinking about. Maybe some feelings transcend life itself.

**Author's Note:**

> fic title - lyrics from I’ll Never Forget You by Birdy


End file.
